What Would YOU Do?
by KaleidoscopeKate
Summary: Ron Weasley would do ANYTHING for a Klondike bar.
1. Episode I

**Episode I  
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><p>'…for…erm, pleasure, but only occasionally and if no one else is around. Generally speaking, Muggles use clipboards as a flat surface to write on.'<p>

Ron yawned. His dad had just gotten loads of old Muggle rubbish from the Ministry, which meant that the rest of the night would be spent listening to (or tuning out, in Ron's case) his lectures and lessons. It was very important to Arthur that his children have a vast knowledge of the Muggle world. Ron found it dreadfully dull, and he couldn't begin to understand why Fred and George were stifling their laughter (and not very well). But it was Fred and George. There was always something to laugh about with them.

Suddenly, a sweet aroma wafted into Ron's nostrils, causing him to perk up. That smelled like ice cream.

Ron liked ice cream.

"And this is a Klondike bar," Arthur explained, holding what appeared to be a small silver package.

Three mouths in the four-person audience began to salivate.

Ginny scrunched her nose up. 'Anything edible that comes in a package like that _can't_ be healthy.'

'I hear Muggles go nuts for these things,' Arthur told her. 'But you're probably right about the nutritional value.'

Ron was fascinated. 'What is it?'

Arthur smiled. 'Precisely what I'm about to show you.' He tore open the silver paper, exposing a dark slab of cold chocolate.

Ron reached for it. 'Can I have a bit?'

'Let's finish looking at it first, shall we?' Arthur laughed, and broke off a corner of the ice cream bar. He peered at it, then frowned. 'It looks like…just vanilla. Vanilla and a chocolate coating.'

'Bit plain for my taste,' Fred commented.

'It might be decent,' George pointed out.

'Well, it _is_ a Muggle antique,' Fred agreed. 'I bet we could pawn it off to some first-years for loads of Galleons.'

'Now you see what I'm getting at!' George grinned.

'I'm telling my friends you said that,' Ginny frowned, inspecting her nails.

'Now, Gin,' Fred tried to reason with her. 'We've got nothing against your friends. We just want their money.'

'Can I have a bit, Dad?' Ron repeated. He found the Muggle treat fascinating. He felt he would do almost…anything…for it.

'Sure thing, Ron.' Arthur popped the torn corner into his mouth and handed Ron the rest of the ice cream bar. 'Have at it.'

Ron took a bite. It was creamy and soft and sweet in the middle, and rich and crispy and also sweet on the outside. It was…a beautiful thing. It was…heaven.

'You all right, mate?' George asked, eyeing his brother strangely.

Ron nodded slowly. 'I need…another.'

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><p><strong>AN: **Reviews make my life. Please make my life!

~KaleidoscopeKate


	2. Episode II

**A/N:** Hehe, this is fun to write. Reviews, my lovelies?

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><p><strong>Episode II<strong>

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><p>It was September first. Ron's fitful dreams had been filled not with anticipation for the upcoming school year, but for longing. Deep, passionate longing.<p>

He had never needed anything more in his life.

It was like a destroyed Horcrux. Without a shining silver square in his hand, he felt a part of him was missing that he could never get back.

That beautiful aroma, that crisp, sweet taste that melted in his mouth…

He…needed…another.

'Dad.' Ron tugged on Arthur's sleeve. 'Look.'

'Ron, I'm afraid we don't have time-'

'Dad-'

'We're running late, Ronald. We've got to get to the platform.'

Ron was enraged, and hurt, and betrayed. How dare his father cast aside the basic necessities of his own child? It was cruel. It was abusive.

He glanced back at the small Muggle convenience store stocked with mostly trivial rubbish: gum, magazines, toothbrushes.

But…they had ice cream. It was in a large white container that shone like a golden treasure chest. It called to Ron. He felt its voice in his _soul._

_Ronald…_whispered the small silver package. _I miss you. I need you. Won't you come back to me?_

Ron abandoned his luggage and ignored his father's angry shouts. He pushed past his startled mother and siblings and bolted to the store.

'I need a Klondike bar,' he explained to the clerk, breathing heavily.

She cocked an eyebrow and reached into the container to pull out an ice cream bar.

Ron nearly fainted. It was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.

'That'll be one pound,' the clerk informed him.

Ron rummaged through his pockets. Blast-ended skrewts, he only had a few Sickles and a measly collection of Knuts.

'Erm.' He dumped the contents of his pockets on the counter and grabbed the ice cream. 'Here you go.'

'I'm sorry, sir, I don't believe we accept-' the woman began, but Ron was already gone. He sprinted through King's Cross Station, catching his trolley full of luggage along the way, breezing past his irate family.

The woman had summoned the train station security, which appeared to consist only of two portly middle-aged men, who huffed and puffed as they tried to chase Ron down.

Ron thought that perhaps that was the reason all so many chubby blokes seemed to be sorted into Hufflepuff.

'STOP!' the cops hollered, dashing after Ron. He was running out of steam, and the ice cream in his hand smelled tantalizingly good. He was afraid if he ran much longer, he would either melt or crush it.

Platforms nine and ten were coming up ahead.

'RON!' Molly wailed.

Ron turned around and paused for a moment. He smiled at the cops—well, he devilishly smirked at the cops.

They appeared momentarily relieved as they began to catch up to him. 'Now, sir-' one of them began.

Ron ripped open his ice cream. He took one long, luxurious bite, savoring the beauty of this godly treasure, then wrapped the rest up again and placed in on top of his luggage.

With a wink at the cops, he grasped his trolley with both hands and plunged toward the column between platforms.

He was there. Platform 9 ¾.

Ron leaned against the column and re-opened the rest of the Klondike bar. He closed his eyes and let the scent dance through his nostrils. With a contented sigh, he proceeded to finish the rest of the ice cream.

The rest of his family must have been trying to apologize to and reason with the cops, or maybe casting memory spells on the whole of King's Cross Station.

Ron didn't care.

With a Klondike bar in his hands, he felt like he had the world at his fingertips.

Ron was a new soul. Reborn. Enlightened.

The Klondike bar…had set him free.

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><p>~KaleidoscopeKate<p> 


	3. Episode III

**Episode III**

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><p>Ron squirmed impatiently in his seat.<p>

'Er…Ron, mate, you all right?' Harry asked, eyeing him skeptically.

'Fine,' he replied briskly. 'Do you know when the trolley comes?'

'Should be any moment now,' Hermione said slowly, giving him the same concerned look-over.

Ron didn't know how much longer he could wait. He knew in years past, the Hogwarts Express trolley hadn't had ice cream. But maybe, if he was lucky, it would be different this year. He would just have to wait and see.

'Do you have any money?' Ron asked Harry, although he knew the answer.

'Er—course,' Harry replied, stuffing his hand in his pocket. 'How much you need?'

'I don't know yet,' Ron said. 'I just wanted to make sure you had some. Spent mine all at the station.'

'What on _earth_ would you buy at King's Cross Station?' Hermione asked incredulously.

'You don't know anything about the kinds of things you can buy at King's Cross Station,' Ron snapped. He was beginning to feel quite grouchy out of longing for his third Klondike bar.

The jingle of the trolley could suddenly be heard from a few compartments down. Ron leaped to his feet. 'Er, how 'bout them Galleons now, Harry?'

Harry pulled out a small handful of money and offered it to Ron. 'You know, the trolley _will_ actually come to our compartment.'

'I can't wait any longer,' Ron explained before dashing out of the compartment. He sprinted toward the trolley, nearly avoiding crashing into it and the portly woman pushing it along. 'Er—sorry,' he apologized. 'Do you have any Klondike bars?'

The woman smiled affectionately. 'I'm afraid I don't understand, dear. What is that you need?'

'A Klondike bar,' he gasped. 'Muggle ice cream. Chocolate on the outside, vanilla in the middle.'

The woman frowned. 'It sounds familiar. I do believe we just recently began selling them.

'So you have one?' Ron could barely contain his sheer ecstasy.

'I'm afraid not, dear. I sold the last one a few compartments back. Is there anything else I can get you?'

'No,' Ron choked. 'It can't be.' He darted behind the woman, glancing in every compartment to find the one who had stolen _his_ precious baby.

Draco Malfoy. _Of_ course. The blond little ferret had peeled back the gleaming wrapper and was about to bite into—

'_EXPELLIARMUS!'_ Ron bellowed, and the ice cream ricocheted out of Malfoy's hands and went _splat_ on the window behind him. He looked up in shock, then begin to glare.

'Weasel,' he snarled. 'I _paid_ for that!'

Ron squeezed into the compartment, completely ignoring him, and peeled the rapidly melting ice cream off of the window.

_Please let this work_, he thought to himself. '_Reparo_,' he prayed, pointing his wand at the ice cream, his eyes closed in desperate hope.

He glanced down to see a flawless ice cream bar.

It had worked.

It was a beautiful thing.

Ron took a long, lingering bite while Malfoy looked on enviously.

It was pure and untainted bliss.

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><p><strong>AN:** Review your little hearts out! :)

~KaleidoscopeKate


	4. Episode IV

**Episode IV**

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><p>Ron had gone approximately five hours, thirty-two minutes, and nineteen seconds without a Klondike bar.<p>

To most people, that would be considered exact rather than approximate, but Ron figured since he wasn't counting milliseconds or nanoseconds or bazilliseconds, it really was nowhere near to the actual time.

He found that counting seconds (as well as the abundance of food on the table in front of him) helped him curb his longing.

His longing for that beautiful package of heaven, bursting with goodwill. It had helped Ron find his purpose in life: to ensure that not a poor deprived soul went without Klondike bars. He would magically clone them—whatever he had to do.

There was no going back. His life before the epiphany just seemed so pointless and vapid in comparison.

'Hermione,' he began. 'You're Muggle-born.'

'Er, yes,' Hermione agreed from across the Gryffindor table. She exchanged a worried glance with Harry.

'So you know about Muggle culture and all. I assume you've had a—' Ron's voice dropped to a reverent whisper— '_Klondike bar_ before?'

'On occasion,' Hermione replied. 'Over the summer, mostly, when I'm at my parents' house. Sometimes my dad owls me one or two. It's funny, he's so mesmerized by our_ magic_ mail system that he'll send me just about anything as an excuse to use it.' She paused, tilting her head quizzically. 'Why do you ask?'

Ron had stopped listening halfway through her spiel. 'So…you have a means by which to obtain Klondike bars?'

Hermione shrugged. 'I guess.'

Harry scrutinized Ron, whose face had sprouted a massive grin. 'Are you sure you're okay?'

'Just fine,' Ron said dreamily.

'Attention!' an obnoxious voice snapped from across the Great Hall. Harry, Ron, and Hermione turned to identify the speaker.

_Draco Malfoy._ The majority of the Gryffindor table rolled their eyes, scoffed, and groaned. In fact, so did the majority of the Great Hall in general. Four tables of annoyance—including the faculty table, of course.

'I would just like to announce,' Draco continued while standing atop the Slytherin table, 'that I have begun selling an incredible Muggle novelty to the Hogwarts student body,' He whipped a silver package out of his robe.

Ron began to salivate as most of the students began to whisper, confused.

'The Klondike bar,' Draco explained. 'I'd say more, but I think it's best to let the taste speak for itself. Trust me, it's worth it. These are things of beauty. I have a large stock, and sales will begin tomorrow. Thank you for your attention. And, finally, so that someone can tell you how incredible these things are, one lucky student gets a free sample!' Draco tossed the Klondike bar randomly into a sea of grabbing hands, and with a dramatic flourish, stepped down from the table.

Ron nearly passed out. He saw his life flash before his eyes as the package soared majestically through the air. It was meant to fly, he knew it. It had finally found its wings. It was beautiful. He reached for it as it swooped toward him…

…and into the chubby hands of Neville Longbottom, who looked both bewildered and thrilled. He hesitantly began to tear open the package, as the students observed his every move with bated breath.

'PETRIFICUS TOTALUS!'

Hundreds of heads turned to see Ron Weasley standing on top of the Gryffindor table, with his eyes narrowed and his wand pointed at the now-frozen Neville. Ron leaned over and snatched the ice cream bar.

'Ron!' Hermione hissed. 'What do you think you're doing?'

'I have to do this,' Ron explained solemnly.

'What's your problem, mate?' Harry demanded.

'It's…magical,' Ron sighed. 'How could a _Muggle_ make something so…simply…_magical_?'

He took a bite, savoring the sweet chocolatey crunch.

He knew his destiny was intertwined with that of the heavenly ice cream. It struck a chord, deep in his heart. It inspired him.

He had never felt better.

'This,' he announced to the wide-eyed Hogwarts students, 'is ridiculously good.'

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><p>If you review, I give you virtual House points and my eternal, undying love! :D<p>

KaleidoscopeKate


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